


Speckled In Blue

by UntoldMuse



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Medication, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Physical Abuse, Suicide Attempt, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-16 07:50:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17545643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UntoldMuse/pseuds/UntoldMuse
Summary: Two days after Lance tried to take his own life, Hunk and Pidgepush him to get admitted to the Balmera Psychiatric Hospital.Unable to trust himself, Lance relies on the doctors to keep him alive.It's a hard road to recovery, made even harder by a strange, non-verbal patient named Keith.Rumors abound as Lance tries to discover Keith's story, while maintaining his own sanity.And who the hell is red?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> MIND THE TAGS!
> 
> This story deals with really heavy themes.  
> Lance suffers from depression and anxiety,  
> and Keith has Dissociative Identity Disorder.
> 
> I am not a mental health expert, but I'm going   
> to do my best to portray their illnesses as accurately  
> as possible. That said, you can suspend some disbelief,  
> since this is a work of fiction.

Sleek white walls shone with reflected light of the overhead fluorescents. The waiting area was clean, well-maintained. It smelled of chlorine and some fruity air freshener. A TV on the wall was turned to the weather channel, forecasting clear skies and high winds for the next few days. At the back of the waiting room sat the reception desk, fronted by two rows of nondescript chairs.

Lance sat in one such chair, tucked between Pidge and Hunk. He held onto his kneecaps with a white-knuckle grip, while one knee bounced slowly up and down. Not a word was said between them, a quiet understanding of what was happening.

“Lance McClain?”  A soft, feminine voice called. It was the receptionist. Pidge rose from her chair, retrieving a clipboard with forms for Lance.

“Here you go,” She said with a somber look. With shaking hands, Lance took the clipboard, eyes bugging at the wide expanse of white paper. It was almost too much to look at. So many things to fill in and boxes to check. Too much. 

He started to cry, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. Lance sniffled and wiped his eyes before Hunk or Pidge could notice. “H-hey…either of you got a pen?” He asked. Pidge dug through her purse and found a little blue pen, Lance’s favorite color. He took it and set to work filling out the form.

A form for voluntary admittance to the Balmera Psychiatric Hospital.

Lance’s hand trembled as he filled out the blank spaces on the form.

_NAME. DATE OF BIRTH. AGE. SEX._

Every question rang in his head like an alarm bell. Deafening. Blinding. Too much for him to even begin to process.

“Hunk,”  He whimpered. “Can you help me?” He pleaded. Hunk, eager to help, took the pen and clipboard from Lance while Pidge held his arm.

Hunk wrote and Lance answered all the questions to the best of his ability. At last, the trio completed the paperwork that had once felt so daunting. On shaky legs, Lance delivered his form up to the receptionist’s desk by himself. He could almost feel the somber encouragement of his friends behind him.

“Here, I uh…I filled everything out.” He said nervously. The receptionist met him with a patient smile and told him to return to his seat, and that a nurse would take him back shortly for evaluation.

“You’re gonna be okay, Lance.” Hunk said, wrapping one big arm around Lance’s shoulder. “This place is nice, safe and reputable. Nothing like the scary ones from the movies, okay?” He assured Lance. Pidge nodded in agreement.

“We just want you to get help Lance. Take care of yourself.”

About the time that Pidge finished saying those words, a nurse in all blue scrubs appeared in the waiting room. “McClain?” She called. Lance’s blood suddenly went cold. His limbs drooped like weights tied to a stick.

Still, he stood up, and greeted the nurse. Hunk and Pidge waved good luck and blew him kisses from their seats. Lance gave a thin smile.  The first smile he’d conjured in weeks.

Hopefully, if staying in the hospital actually helped, it’d be one of many more to come.

Once Lance got situated in a room, the nurse instructed him to take off his clothes and don a hospital gown. Reluctantly he obeyed, slipping the rough-spun fabric onto his sensitive skin. It bristled uncomfortably against hair and nerve endings. Lance fought the urge to scratch himself all over.

Finally dressed, the nurse took his vitals: heartrate, blood pressure, weight and et. cetera. “Okay Mr. McClain, it seems you’re okay until the doctor comes in. He should only be a couple of minutes.” The nurse assured him. Lance nodded, thankful to get this process over with.

            While they waited, he took in the scenery of the exam room. Nothing remarkable stood out from the beige walls, except a few photographs of smiling people and mountains. Lance scoffed. No doubt stock photos. He could probably pull up the exact website they had come from on his phone.

            Speaking of which…

            The doctor finally arrived, wearing a pair of black scrubs and multi-colored sneakers. He was young, probably only a year or two into residency. A tuft of white hair stood out from the rest of his raven locks, drooping over his forehead. He took a seat on the stool next to Lance and introduced himself.

            “Hey there. My name is Doctor Shirogane,” He said with a polite smile. Lance tried to smile back but couldn’t. Apparently all the ‘smiling’ energy he had was depleted.

            “I’m Lance.” He replied.

            “It’s nice to meet you. I’m gonna be doing your evaluation, and then we’ll decide where to go from there, is that alright?” He asked.

            Lance nodded.  He wasn’t really able to process much right now, but something about Dr. Shirogane seemed reassuring. Lance felt comfortable enough to just listen and not think for a while.

            “Okay, so let’s begin with a few questions…First and foremost, do you know where you are, and _why_ you are here?” Dr. Shirogane asked.

            Lance bit his tongue, suddenly taken back to two days ago…The day he decided to take his own life. Yes, he knew exactly why. And if he ever couldn’t remember, the scars on his arms would give it away.

            “Yes,” He finally answered. “This is a hospital…and I’m admitting myself here because…I’m _scared._ ”

            Doctor Shirogane scribbled a couple notes on his sheet and continued. “Scared of what?”

            “Myself…I’m a danger to myself.” More notes as the doctor’s pen _scratch-scratched_ across the paper. The sound grated on Lance’s nerves. Just like the itchy gown.

            “Are you on any medication?” Dr. Shirogane asked.

            Lance grimaced. He _was_ on an anti-depressant, until his fucking insurance ran out- _son of a bitch._

            “Not currently,” He replied, deciding that was a better answer.     

            Dr. Shirogane wrote a few more notes before asking his final question. “Okay last question, have you ever been hospitalized for your conditions before?” He stared at Lance, as if he could see into the man’s soul. Lance squirmed for a minute and shook his head.

            “N-no…I’ve never been to a place like this before.” He affirmed.

            Dr. Shirogane stood up, put his clipboard on the stool and took a look at Lance. “Do mind if I check you? A brief physical is also part of the evaluation.” He explained. Lance nodded. He really didn’t give a shit what the Doctor wanted to do at this point.

            All Lance wanted was relief.

            Dr. Shirogane carefully examined him, reading the vital information taken by the nurse. He checked things she had missed and rechecked his blood pressure. Lance zoned out through the whole procedure, finding a bit of carpet on the floor terribly more exciting.

            But Dr. Shirogane paused when he came to Lance’s arms. Criss-crossing over the dark olive skin, there were angry red lines-betrayal of a knife pressed against the flesh. And mixed between them were smaller, pinkish scars. They stretched across Lance’s skin, glaring like daggers under the fluorescent light.

            Dr. Shirogane grimaced and looked at Lance. “I would like to dress these wounds on your arm. Would you be okay with that?” He asked. Lance balked for a minute, then he nodded, silently giving his consent.

The doctor grabbed a roll of gauze and some sterile pads while the nurse disinfected the cuts with peroxide. Lance didn’t even flinch at the sting. His mind was somewhere else. Far away, thinking of his brothers and sisters, and climbing trees and swimming in the ocean. He didn’t even notice when Dr. Shirogane and the nurse had finished patching him up.

“We’re all done, sweetie.” The nurse cooed. Lance snapped back to reality.

Dr. Shirogane turned to the nurse and handed her the clipboard full of notes. “Let’s put him in his own room for the night, whichever one is available in ward B.” The nurse nodded, motioning for Lance to follow her out.

“You’re gonna be just fine, Mr. McClain.” Dr. Shirogane said as he was ushered out of the room. Lance swallowed a lump in the back of his throat. He sure fucking hoped so.

Lance’s solo room was in ward B, on the second floor of the facility. Since he had voluntarily admitted himself there, it wasn’t one of the wards on lockdown. Lance shuddered to think what _those_ ones were like. He’d watched too many horror movies as a kid.

 The room was small, containing only a single bed and a nightstand. The walls were the same, uninteresting beige of the exam room…the only difference being this time the carpet was blue. Lance sat down on the uncomfortable bed, resting his head on a flat-as-hell pillow. The nurse said good night and closed the door behind her.

But try as he might, Lance couldn’t get to sleep. He tossed and turned, uncomfortable and itchy all over. The gown itched, the blanket was too scratchy and rubbed his skin wrong. Everything was uncomfortable and unpleasant, and Lance cried in frustration.


	2. Chapter 2

The following morning was slightly better. A new nurse showed up to take Lance to the dining room for breakfast. She was young woman, with brown hair pulled up into elaborate buns on either side of her head. She introduced herself as _Shay._ Lance gave her a handshake, not knowing what the hell else to do.

She talked to him pleasantly while they walked. It was only short distance up and around the hallway from Lance’s room. He appreciated the company, even if he was nervous.

Unlike most of the rooms at the hospital, the dining room actually had some color to it. The walls were mostly beige again, except for one wall that was painted with a warm orange color. Lance sighed, not realizing how happy the sight of color could make him. The walls were decorated too, with pictures of gourmet foods and cheesy signs that said stuff like “ _live, laugh, love.”_

There were several tables with chairs tucked under them, and Lance thought it was interesting all the tables were round. Shay told him to pick a place to sit before they brought out the food, but Lance was too amazed by the place. He gawped at everything there was to look at, and finally, his eyes landed on an unfamiliar and _threatening_ face.

He was dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, leaning against the wall far away from the tables. Lance couldn’t exactly determine why, but something about that guy unnerved him. He shook it off and sat down like Shay had said, and before long, it was time to eat.

Shay helped the more non-functioning patients to dish food onto their plates, but Lance was fully capable of doing it himself. A couple of other nurses stood next to the door like sentries, and Lance guessed they were there to keep patients from leaving without permission.

That weird guy was still standing in the corner, glaring at the small throng of people eating breakfast. Lance shuddered. When Shay came near to check on him, Lance just had to ask, “Who is that guy? The one standing all emo over there.”  He tried not to make it obvious he was staring…But he was totally freaking obvious.

“Him? That’s Keith…He’s-a bit of a loner from what I’ve gathered. He doesn’t talk and really only listens to a select few people.”

“Thanks,” Lance said absentmindedly. He continued eating his overdone eggs and toast, all the while feeling _Keith’s_ eyes boring into his very being.

* * *

 

            After breakfast, Lance joined the other residents for a group therapy session. They convened in the next room over,  a slightly smaller area, with the same beige color palate like everywhere else. Lance took a chair near the windows, feeling a beam of sunlight through the curtains. It was so warm, so nice.

            It almost made him forget about the fact he’d have to talk to a group of strangers about his mental problems and suicidal tendencies very soon. Lance hoped against hope that he wouldn’t have to say anything. A knot twisted in his stomach at the mere thought of it, and his leg shook.

            Suddenly, he felt a hand pressed gently against his knee. Lance jerked away violently, staring up at whoever touched him. His eyes met the gaze of a female doctor with long, white hair. “Are you okay? Do you need something?” She asked. Lance shook his head. His thoughts were scrambled, concentrated on his fear, the smell of the doctor’s perfume, and that weird Keith guy all at once.

            “Just nervous, first time and all.” He said at length.

            The doctor took an empty seat next to Lance and crossed her legs at the ankle. “Don’t be nervous, you’ll get along just fine here, I promise.” She assured him. “I’m Doctor Allura by the way. I usually host group therapy sessions while Dr. Shirogane handles one-on-one treatment.” Lance nodded, fiddling with his gown. Yep, in the past 12 hours since he’d been admitted, he still had on a flimsy hospital gown.

            Once everyone settled down, Allura stood and began the meeting. Lance watched how she calmly introduced herself and brought their first discussion to order. “Since we have a couple of new faces joining us today, let’s all introduce ourselves.” She said cheerfully.

            The knot in Lance’s stomach twisted even tighter. Great. Just great. Just what he’d been dreading for the last fifteen minutes or so. No big deal. Not at all…

            Just talking…

            To strangers…

            About himself…

            Fuck.

            “It’ll be a simple introduction, just say your name and something interesting about yourself! Okay? I’m going to start. My name is Allura, and my favorite color is pink.”

            A rough-looking older man with a balding head raised his head. “Hey, my name is Raymond…I like boats.” Lance heard a quiet hum of _hi Raymond_ erupt from the group around him. Okay, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Lance could just rehearse until it was his turn.

            _Hi, I’m Lance and my favorite color is blue._

            Simple.

            Around the circle they went, one person after the other, saying hello. Some of the patients either _couldn’t_ talk or didn’t feel like sharing. Lance wondered if he could join them.

            But suddenly it was his turn. _“Come on buddy, just like we practiced.”_ He told himself.

            “H-hi, I’m Lance…and uh, my favorite color is blue.” Lance gave a pathetic wave after his introduction, but mercifully no one teased him for it.

   Allura resumed the reigns over the conversation, getting them started on the first discussion topic. “Alright, if everyone is finished introducing themselves, let’s talk for a bit.”

            Lance only half-listened to the other patients. He was too busy trying not to have a breakdown from the itchy hospital gown that still clung to his body. For a place that specialized in mental health, they sure didn’t have clothing to eliminate sensory issues.

 

            But apart from his scratchy clothing, something else bugged Lance. Here in the group circle thing, his brain finally began to process all that had happened. Stitching it together piece by piece until the memories were a full-on, morbid tapestry. Three days ago, he’d been at his lowest…Just a bottle of pills and a rope away from death. That was, until Hunk and Pidge found him.

            Today, he was in the hospital, bandaged and looked after and very, _utterly_ confused about how to feel. And try as he might, Lance couldn’t stop the trickle of tears that streamed down his cheeks.

            Dr. Allura noticed of course, since she sat right beside him. She offered him a tissue in a comforting gesture. “Are you alright, do you want to talk?” She prompted. Lance nodded.  Natural awkwardness be damned, everyone else had opened up…he could too.

            “I’m just-I’m having a hard time adjusting. I came here last night with a couple of my friends…they saved me from suicide. And now I’m here-and my gown is itchy and I want to cry but I don’t have any tears _to_ cry…” He broke down, burying his face in both hands. Dr. Allura wrapped him up in a side hug, holding him tight. Lance shook with the weight of his sobs.

            With the realization of what happened. What he _almost_ did.

            “I-I…I almost killed myself. I would’ve been dead.” He whimpered. Allura held him even tighter, while motioning for one of the nurses at the door to come over. “I would’ve been dead…” He repeated it over and over, hoping that eventually that sentence would stick.

            Lance shuddered in terror. A male nurse squatted in front of him, offering a hand. Allura let go of Lance, producing another tissue for him. “Do you want to speak to Dr. Shirogane one-on-one?” She asked. “I think it might be better for you if you do.” Lance nodded.

Yeah, that sounded like a good idea right now.


End file.
